It's okay until it isn't

Not Immune

And I'm sitting here like an idiot.

Suddenly, my body snaps out of whatever transe it was in, and I bolt for the guards. They completely ignore me

"Where are you taking him?"

Ignored

"What's happening?"

Ignored

"Why are you doing this?"

Ignored. I just kind of followed them, until they passed through a door. Almost instantly, I was swarmed with guards. I pulled against them, and that's when I noticed a sign.

Execution.

What? No, no, no, no, no. Newt was going to die. I screamed in the faces of the guards who were holding me

"What are they doing with him?"

One of the female guards answered me. Finally some answers. But, after I heard the answer, I wish I hadn't

"They're executing him. He isn't immune. We don't need him anymore."

Isn't immune? What? My head was switching rapidly from the guards to Newt being dragged farther and farther away. I launched myself out of the guards reach, and bolted for Newt.

I couldn't let him die, I just couldn't.

That was all.

I just couldn't.

Newt turned and saw me. He reached out a hand, he was almost being carried by the guards now. I reached out and grabbed his hand. Newt's eyes were spilling over with tears. He was looking right at me

"Minho, oh, Min. . ."

Tears were falling from his face, and onto the sterile white floor. The guards behind me had stopped following, and I saw why. There was a door, and Newt was being taken through that door. It would probably close. I managed to choke out a few words

"Newt. . .Newt, I promise you, it'll be okay! It'll be okay. . ."

Newt's eyes were full of heartbreak, but he managed a nod. The guards jerked Newt from me, and his hand fell from mine. He looked at me, one last time before the doors shut

"Minho."

He screamed it. He screamed it with everything he had. I crumpled to the floor, onto my knees.

"Newt. . ."

That's when I realized I was crying. My tears fell where Newt's had, and they swirled together. I needed Newt. I needed him more than anything. And now he is gone.

I stood up. I pounded the door. I kicked the door. I screamed at the door. I punched it more. My knuckles were bloody and torn, the door was no longer sterile white, it was streaked with my blood. I punched the door again, and again, and again. Finnialy, too exhausted to keep going, I braced myself against the door, sobbing. I jump back up, when a loud siren screeches to life. The door slides open, and a few guards come running out, muttering to each other

"I bet it's that 'right hand' group, or whatever they call themselves."

The other guard rolls his eyes

"Right arm."

The guards didn't even notice me, and I bolted inside the room, and saw Newt, not dead. Close, but not dead. He was laying on a cot, and he was barely breathing. Things were connected to him, which I immediately ripped out. I shook him, he had to wake up. He mumbled something. Oh thank shuck.

He was alive.

I picked him up, and bolted back to the cafeteria. Or, what used to be the cafeteria. It was now a meeting room of some sort, all the gladers waiting inside of it. I moved to sit next to Thomas, and layed Newt in my lap. Thomas looked concerned

"Hey, what happened to Newt?"

"He almost got executed."

Thomas just looked shocked, and turned back to look expectantly at the door. Newt sat up, coughing and gasping for breath. I all but strangled him in a hug

"Newt! Newt your okay!"

Newt managed to stop coughing to manage

"Min. . ."

When Newt was able to breathe normally again, he looked me straight in the eyes"

"Minho, thank you, thank you, thank you."

I smiled

"No, thank you Newt."

He looked confused

"For what?"

"Everything."

Just then, the door everyone had been staring at flew open, and a man came in. Another man followed, and whispered something in his ear, before the man walked to the center of the room, and addressed us.

"Hello. I work for WICKED.I believe that you have been told you are all immune to the flare. Correct?"

He didn't wait for us to say anything

"Well, that is a lie."

This causes some murmuring.

"The following people are not immune. Newt. . ."

I don't hear the other names after that.

So that's what they meant when they said he wasn't immune. . .

I looked over at Newt. He looked stunned, surprised. I grabbed his hand in mine. The man says he'll give us some time to take this in, before leaving. Newt looks straight at me

"I'm sorry."

Add up another tally for how many times my heart has been broken. I have tears in my eyes, but I try to blink them away.

"About what? What have you ever done to me? Nothing! You aren't responsible for everything!"

I was screaming. I don't know why. Newt didn't flinch

"For not being immune."

I'm full on crying now.

"Baby, that's not your fault."

"I'm still sorry."

I stood up, I was yelling now. I was screaming. I just couldn't take it anymore. I hated WICKED, I hated the scorch, I hated that man, I hated everything.

"It isn't your fault so stop! Just stop!"

I stomped off and slid to the ground on the other side of the room. I just let it all out. After a few minutes, I didn't feel sadness anymore. Just longing.

Longing for a normal life, longing for Newt, longing for the hurting to stop.

I felt someone sit down next to me. I knew it was Newt. I spoke without looking up

"It's not your fault."

Newt blurted out the worst idea I'd ever heard

"Maybe we should split up."

"W-Why?"

My voice was filled with panic. Newts was filled with sadness

"I'll only hurt you. . ."

"How?"
I demanded, and I knew my voice sounded sharp.

"Well. . .we'll only have a limited time before I. . . you know."

I reach out and grab his hand

"Then, I guess we'll have to make the most of it."